Hunted (COBRA Securities Book 12)

by Velvet Vaughn

  She hadn’t killed anyone. “Who?”

  “Valeria.”

  Breath choked in her throat. She’d killed her? She had kicked her in the head pretty hard and she’d slammed against the concrete, but she didn’t think it was a killing blow. “How…” her voice came out choked so she tried again. “How do you know I killed her?”

  “Duh. Because she told us.”

  “How could she have told you if she was dead?”

  Carmen huffed like she was an idiot. “She wasn’t dead when she told us. What, you think I called up her spirit with a Ouija board and had a little chat?” She shook her head. “She came back to the offices where we were in the midst of distributing the packages you helped put together for our troops, not some snot-nosed little brats, and told us that she had you but you escaped.”

  “Again, how do you think I killed her?”

  “Because she failed. Raul’s freedom is too important to have incompetent people working for us. When she went to hand out some of the care packages, she accidently fell in front of a tank.” Her laugh was demented. “Flattened her like a pancake.”

  My God, Carmen had no soul. She truly was evil. How had she not seen that before? The woman had to be an incredible actress because Harlow had learned long ago to distinguish between people wanting to be her friend for her connections versus those who wanted to be her friend for her. She thought Carmen fell into the second category.

  How wrong she’d been.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Heat signatures are correct. Only two men besides Carmen.” Wyatt guided the drone back and as it hovered over the box, the wings folded in and it settled gently into its resting place. Amazing. Tyler truly was a genius.

  They’d checked the entire perimeter of the property and all the rooms inside the hut. The house was modest in drug cartel circles, but it’d been designed to blend into the surrounding jungle. Even the massive fence was mostly overgrown with leaves and branches, disguising it from view. The house itself was hard to distinguish on the satellite map and would be virtually invisible from the sky. The cartel most likely used this place to hide out or to stash their supply of drugs.

  Besides an impressive cache of weapons in one room, there were no other surprises to slow them down. They’d discovered several cartons in the room used as an armory that tested positive for drugs when the drone got close enough to check. It wasn’t a huge amount but would probably gross seven digits when disbursed to other countries.

  “We took down three tangoes in the jungle, and someone eliminated Andrés.” Grant placed his hands on his hips. “So that would’ve been six guards here with Carmen. That’s about right.”

  “I’d bet more are on the way. Carmen isn’t stupid. They took Harlow for a reason, so she’d want reinforcements.”

  Wyatt glanced down the rutted dirt road. “I can send the drone down the path to check for incoming, but it would take time. I’m thinking it would be best to just burst inside.”

  Sawyer and Grant agreed. They didn’t want to waste any time in getting Harlow out of there.”

  “Best approach is through the gate,” Grant determined. “We go for a frontal attack. They won’t be expecting it. Blow the lock, take out the two guards before they know what hit them, storm the building.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’ve got Laurel.” Wyatt indicated the giant. “Grant, you take out Hardy.”

  No way. “He’s mine,” Sawyer growled, remembering the look of satisfaction on the rotund face when he’d squeezed the trigger not once, but twice.

  Grant gripped his shoulder. “I know you want revenge, but you aren’t a hundred percent. You only have one working eye. We need this to go down without a hitch. Let me take him out for you. Your revenge will be saving Harlow.”

  Damn, he was right. Sawyer had complete faith in his shooting ability, even with one eye. He’d been at the top of his class at Quantico and had only improved since signing on at COBRA Securities, but Grant had been a SEAL, the best of the best. And Sawyer wasn’t at his best with the bruised ribs. He nodded once. Grant gave him a couple of slaps, checked his rifle and then took out his phone. “I need to make a call before we go in.”

  There was one hitch in the plan, however. He had to figure out what to do with Duke. Grant had removed him from the sling and after watering a leafy fern, he’d trotted over and planted himself at Sawyer’s feet. If he left him out here, he would be vulnerable to any animals that might be lurking about. Wyatt had filled him in on the boa constrictor episode on the hike. He didn’t even want to think of one of the large snakes wrapping itself around Duke. Plus, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t come running after them. They planned on surprising the two guards, but there would still be firepower flying around. He didn’t want the dog hurt by a stray shot. He couldn’t tie him to a tree…he might inadvertently strangle himself in a bid to get free.

  With a sigh, he lifted the dog so he could peer into his eyes. Duke blinked back at him and tried to swipe with his tongue. Damn, he loved the little guy. “Duke, listen to me. You need to stay right here but be alert. Watch for any critters. I’ll come back for you as soon as possible.” He placed him on the ground and held out a palm. Duke instantly sat.

  “You really think he’ll listen?” Wyatt’s voice was laced with amusement.

  He hoped so. He looked at his coworker and shrugged. “It’s the best I can come up with.”

  Grant disconnected, studied his screen for a few moments and then slipped the phone in a pocket. Then he dug out a block of C4 from his pack and putty to attach it to the gate. After making sure the guards weren’t looking, he attached the explosive to the lock and backed away.

  He picked Duke back up and covered his ears.

  “Be ready on three, two…”

  #

  A loud boom shook the building, rattling glasses and knocking over the ladder-back chair next to Harlow. A framed picture that looked like it was snapped at the hidden lake she and Sawyer had stumbled upon crashed to the floor, the glass shattering into a million tiny shards.

  “What the hell?” Carmen cried, jumping to her feet. She rushed over and yanked Harlow to her feet, the tip of her knife biting into Harlow’s side, close to the same spot where Valeria had stabbed her. The rapid staccato of gunfire erupted. Only five or six bursts and then just as quickly as it started, it ended. Now there was complete silence.

  Carmen backed them up and grabbed something from the counter, dropping it into her breast pocket. She shoved the knife under Harlow’s chin as two figures materialized in front of them holding rifles.

  Grant and Wyatt stepped inside, looking like consummate soldiers with their unshaven faces and bulging muscles, both dressed in khaki cargo pants and long-sleeved khaki shirts over black t-shirts. Her heart hitched, wishing it had been Sawyer.

  “You’re all alone here, Carmen,” Grant taunted. “Lenny and Squiggy out there didn’t put up much of a fight. All of your comrades are dead. Let her go and we’ll consider letting you live.”

  Carmen’s wild-eyed gaze jerked from one man to the other. “I will kill her right now if you do not drop the weapons. She shoved the tip of the blade into her skin and Harlow gasped. The warm trickle of blood tracked down her neck. “I mean it.”

  “Okay, stop,” Wyatt said, putting his gun on the floor. Grant followed suit. Then they stood with their hands up. “We put the weapons down. Now let her go.”

  Carmen laughed, a high-pitched, panicked sound. “Do you think I’m stupid—”

  A low growl cut off her words and then Carmen let out a blood-curdling scream. Harlow flinched and ducked her head as the knife clattered to the floor. Her ears rang from the shriek and she stumbled forward when Carmen’s grip on her was gone.

  Harlow spun around to see Duke latched onto Carmen’s leg with a death grip. A muscular arm bounded around Carmen’s arms and a big hand covered her mouth. Her knees buckled. Sawyer! He was alive!

  “Duk
e, let go,” Sawyer ordered. The dog clearly didn’t want to give up his prize, but he finally relented. “Come get her,” he ordered to the other two men. They raced over to collect Carmen who was now screaming and cursing. Sawyer took two steps forward and grabbed her, tugging her close. She was glad he made the first move because her limbs wouldn’t move. He was alive! She cried out at the exquisite feel of his strong arms wrapping around her, his scent enveloping her. Tears streamed down her face.

  “You came for me.”

  “Always.” His voice was gruff.

  She wasn’t sure her chest could contain her heart. It felt so full of love for this man. She had to tell him. “Sawyer, I love—”

  “Quit struggling or we will hurt you.” Wyatt’s harsh command interrupted her declaration.

  “I will kill you all, starting with that damn dog!” Carmen yelled. “You are all dead! Do you hear me? Dead! I will see you in hell.”

  She glanced around Sawyer to see Carmen struggling and fighting for all she was worth. Grant and Wyatt each had one of her arms, so there was no way she was getting loose. All the sudden, she stopped fighting and her legs gave out.

  Harlow’s mind flashed back to Carmen dropping a small black device into her pocket. She reached for her. “Don’t let her hit the ground!”

  But it was too late. Carmen flashed her an evil smile when she landed on the detonator and then the whole world exploded.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Harlow woke slowly to the overwhelming scent of smoke. She could hear flames crackling, but it sounded far away. The acrid scent of fire filled her nose and she realized it wasn’t a dream. An alarm peeled with a high-pitched wail. She remembered feeling the same way after the small boy blew himself up in front of them. She quickly took stock. Something heavy pressed down on her. Sawyer. He’d thrown his body over hers to protect her. She was sore from hitting the ground, but he’d wrapped his arms around her to cushion the blow, and he was still clutching her tight. She could only see the top of his blond head.

  “Sawyer?” He didn’t answer. She tried to shake him. “Sawyer?” Panic was building.

  “Harlow, are you okay?”

  Grant’s face appeared above hers. Blood trickled down his temple from a cut along his hairline.

  “I can’t wake Sawyer up.”

  “Looks like a beam hit him. I’m going to lift it off. Hang tight.”

  Some of the weight eased and then Grant carefully rolled Sawyer off her. She scrambled out from under him and then cradled his head. Something wet and sticky coated her fingers and when she pulled her hand out, it came away covered in blood.

  “Heads bleed profusely,” Grant told her, probably trying to calm her but it didn’t work. “He’s breathing, but it’s shallow. We need to get him out of here.”

  “Where’s Wyatt?”

  “I’ll check on him next.”

  “Carmen?”

  Grant shook his head, his gaze drifting over her shoulder. She glanced back to see the tacky antler chandelier she’d hated on sight pinning her former friend to the floor, her eyes wide in death. Good. It seemed fitting, somehow.

  Movement caught her eye and she gasped, reaching out to scoop up a disoriented Duke as he struggled to reach them. She brushed off bits of drywall and fragments. He was covered in dust but she couldn’t find any obvious signs of injury.

  “Go outside now,” Grant ordered. “The house isn’t safe. Get in the SUV and check for keys.”

  “Sawyer…”

  “I’ve got him.”

  She wanted to stay by Sawyer’s side, but she needed to be helpful. Right now, Grant was doing everything. Cuddling Duke close, she eased Sawyer’s head to the floor, scrambled to her feet and rushed out. Her steps faltered at the sight of the two dead men crumpled at the bottom of the stairs. She leaped over them and threw open the door of the SUV. She let out a cry of relief to find a set of keys dangling from the ignition. She bundled Duke inside and then opened the back doors so Grant could carry Sawyer and Wyatt out. She spotted their backpacks in a pile by the gate and she quickly gathered them up and tossed them in the back. Adrenaline had to be kicking in because normally, she could barely lift them. Now she had no problem tossing them inside the SUV.

  Grant came jogging out with Sawyer in a firemen’s hold. She stood aside while he carefully placed him on the back seat, then jumped inside and crouched in the floorboard to murmur words of comfort. Duke leapt over the seats and crawled on his chest with a whine.

  She looked up and gasped in horror when one side of the house collapsed in a wall of flames. She scrambled out backwards and rushed to what was left of the structure, intending to run inside to help Grant and Wyatt. It might be a suicide mission, but she couldn’t stand by and watch them die. Before she reached the steps, a large figure emerged from the smoke. Grant with Wyatt over his shoulder. Her knees weakened. “Thank God.”

  She hurried to the passenger door and opened it wide.

  “I’m okay,” a groggy Wyatt protested as Grant settled him inside, reached around and fastened the seat belt. Grant closed the door and rounded the hood. She hurried back to Sawyer, sliding in so she could lift his head to rest in her lap. She reached under him and managed to maneuver a belt around him without dislodging Duke from his perch. After she locked hers in place, she stroked his hair, hoping the gesture was comforting to him in his state of unconsciousness. She also hoped he could hear her murmured words of love.

  “Buckled up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Grant cranked the engine and met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Do you know how to shoot?”

  “Yes.”

  He reached down and handed her a SIG Sauer. “Safety’s off. I have a feeling this will bring troops running.”

  She tested the weight of the gun in her hand. It was heavy, nothing like the pistols she’d used at firing ranges. Still, point, aim, pull trigger. The mechanics were the same.

  Grant shifted into reverse, punched the accelerator and they shot down the drive. He’d no sooner swerved out of the gates and shifted into drive when a black SUV came charging down the rutted lane, barreling down on them. “Get down,” Grant ordered as bullets pinged against the metal. The rear window shattered. Grant floored the SUV, going as fast as the horrible road conditions would allow. She peeked over the seat and aimed the gun. She kept her other arm stretched across her body to hold onto Duke. They were bumping and jolting, making it hard to keep steady. Using the seat as a brace, she started shooting.

  The SUV behind them swerved and veered and then briefly went airborne before slamming into a tree, the back end lifting into the air with the impact. The hood had crumpled like an accordion. She didn’t bother to see if anyone emerged.

  “Damn, girl, you can watch my six anytime.”

  The praise warmed her but was short-lived when she noticed Wyatt had rolled down his window and fired as well. It was a pretty good bet that it’d been his shooting that took out the other vehicle.

  She glanced at Sawyer and battled back tears. He was still out. She’d curved his hand around Duke, who seemed to need the comfort, and it still rested where she put it. She was worried that he hadn’t woken up yet. Though bloody and battered, Wyatt was moving around. Grant was bloody and battered, too. The only one who wasn’t was her, and that was because Sawyer had used his body to shield her from the explosion.

  “Hold on,” Grant yelled.

  She glanced up to see another black SUV on the narrow road in front of them. There was barely room for one vehicle, let alone two. This one wasn’t slowing at all. It was racing straight for them.

  Chapter Thirty

  Harlow groped for the gun she’d dropped to the floor but it had slid beneath the seat. She looked up in horror to see two headlights aimed straight for them, not backing down. She dove to cover Sawyer and Duke and prepared for impact.

  “It’s going to be close,” Grant warned. “Hold on…now.” He braked hard and swerved so that Wyatt had
a clear shot and he took advantage. The pop, pop, pop of the bullets hit their mark and this vehicle also slammed into a tree, judging by the sickening impact of metal against an immovable object.

  “One more on the horizon.”

  This time, Grant pulled out his rifle and between the two of them, they removed the threat before it materialized.

  She slowly sat up and rubbed her gut where the seat belt had jerked her into place. “I hope they were bad guys and we didn’t just harm innocent tourists out for a drive in the jungle.”

  “Bad guys,” both men said at the same time.

  “How do you know?”

  “Look at the antenna.”

  She did as they drove past and spotted a small red flag attached. Dominar’s colors.

  “That’s how they know friend from foe.”

  “Then how come they were shooting at us? Shouldn’t we have one, too?” She ducked to peer out the windshield but there was nothing crimson in sight except for the vivid bird that fluttered from a branch.

  “Carmen must have forgotten to attach her flag, or it came off somewhere,” Grant said. “It wasn’t there when we got in.” He drove with one hand and grabbed his cell with the other. He mentioned something about an exfil and then disconnected. Wyatt was a pilot, but she didn’t think he was capable of flying a paper airplane at the moment, let alone a real one. Twin trickles of blood ran down his cheek.

  She asked the question she’d been wondering since she’d turned to see Sawyer’s beautiful battered face in the house. “How did Sawyer survive? I saw the man shoot him point-blank. Twice. Then he kicked him and he didn’t so much as flinch. I was sure he was dead.”

  “Kevlar vest,” Grant told her. “It caught both slugs. He’s highly trained, so he knew if he reacted when they kicked him, they might’ve finished him off with a head shot.”

  She shivered not wanting to even think about that possibility. She ran her fingers through his hair. One side of his face was bruised and swollen, but he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever met.